Library Revelations
by ithaswhatitisnt
Summary: Lame title, I know...Malfoy needs help, and when he wanders into the library, he ends up giving help instead. Dramoine kinda/sorta fluff. Oneshot.


As far as I'm concerned, Dramoine is a disgusting ship. However, my friend absolutely lives for the Dramoine ship, and so I wrote her this for her birthday. She loved it and begged me for more. I told her I had to recover from the shock of writing this first. It's been almost a year and I'm still not over it. I do not own Harry Potter or Muggle football touchdown dances.

* * *

As Draco Malfoy wandered down the musty halls of Hogwarts to reach the library, he was praying fervently that a certain bushy-haired brunette wouldn't be lurking about as she usually was. That girl appeared to live in the library. She was always at the table at the far end of the library, right before the Restricted Section, and she was always drowning in thick, heavy tomes on every subject one could imagine. It didn't appear she was doing research; she was simply poring over the books to absorb the knowledge. She was always hunting for more knowledge.

Draco shook his head, clearing the thought. So she was hungry for being a know-it-all? Why should he care? He just hated whenever he had to dash to the library for a project and not only avoid the vulture that was Madam Pince, but also avoid the nasty glares that _she_ threw his way. But, oh, how he loved reflecting on those glares. He would peek over the top of whatever dusty book he had plucked off the shelf and amused himself by attempting to read her face. Was there any kindness in her eyes afterwards?

As he approached the hall that led to the library, he tried to prepare himself for her reaction. Draco expected a positively killer glare today, because he had hexed that wretched Weasley boy, the one in his year, and _she_ had happened to be standing right by.

He couldn't explain to her why he had hexed Weasley; she wouldn't understand. Women never did understand any mad reason men had for doing what they did. But Draco had a perfectly valid excuse.

He loathed Weasley for being so close to her. Weasley probably knew everything about her: what she liked, what she didn't, what made her tick, etc. Weasley knew all of that and flaunted it. He didn't care about knowing it; he didn't _need_ to know it.

Draco, on the other hand, considered it absolutely vital that he secured this information. Sadly, it couldn't be found in any volume in the library.

_She's the forbidden fruit; she's exactly what I want, but I can't have her. Not after everything I've done to her; not after all the insults, the hexes…I called her 'Mudblood'…she'll never forgive me for that! God, doesn't she know how much she drives me mad? Why can't she know that I spend night after night staring aimlessly at the ceiling while dreaming of her in my arms? Why can't she understand that every time I close my eyes, her face appears behind my eyelids, forever burned into my sight? _

_ Why can't she, with all her brains, see that I love her?_

Draco was at the mouth of the entrance to the library, and it was just as he had feared; Hermione Granger was seated at her usual table, her nose buried in one book and surrounded by so many others all one could see was her hair.

Draco sauntered in casually, trying to slide by everyone else – the distractions – to get to the far end of the library. Incidentally, that was where he needed to collect a book from, so he could make the act appear natural.

His pulse quickened as he came upon the breathtaking Hermione. A drowsy aura seeped off her, and she looked as though she had been sleep-deprived for days.

Draco hated himself for the next sentence that escaped his lips, but he had to keep things as normal as they had been.

"God, Granger, did someone beat you? You look even worse than usual." Could she hear the hidden concern beneath the scornful tone?

She raised her curly head and snapped, "I've had a tough time in Arithmancy lately, alright? I needed to get in some extra studying! Now, leave me alone, Malfoy!"

As Draco looked her in the eyes, he saw that her normally warm molten brown eyes were red and puffy. It seemed as though she had been crying behind that huge book.

Draco knew it would seem uncharacteristic to her, but he forced what he hoped was a kind smile on his face.

"What's wrong, Granger?"

"Nothing, Malfoy! Go away!" she spat, and buried her face back in her book.

Draco was a bit shaken, but he would not leave until he got the information he wanted.

"Come on, Hermione. Something's wrong," he wheedled, and she sat up straight, surprised at hearing him use her first name. He actually sounded sincerely concerned.

"No, nothing's wrong," Hermione protested, sniffling. "Just leave me alone. It's humiliating enough without having my worst enemy see me so vulnerable."

Ouch; there was another dagger in Draco's heart. He genuinely wanted to comfort her; why couldn't she just let him?

"Hermione," he said softly, her name floating off his lips. She turned her head away from him, and he pulled her face to look him in the eyes.

"Tell me what's wrong. I can't be nasty when you're miserable. That's my job to make you miserable," he joked, and she looked dangerously close to tears again.

"It's…it's not really a-a-anything," she stammered. "Just some relationship problems with Ron."

"Like what?" Draco pressed, knowing he was digging his own grave with this question.

"Harry told me that Ron told him that he's been seeing Lavender Brown again behind my back. Ron hasn't said anything, but I know Harry wouldn't lie about something like this. But now every time Ron touches me, kisses me, I wonder how long it's been going on, and how I can ever believe anything he says anymore.

"Coming back from my break, I caught Lavender and Ron making out in the Charms corridor broom closet. I hexed Ron with everything I had and left Lavender to sort him out. I told Harry, and believe it or not, he let me cry into his shoulder for a while. I thought coming to the library for a while would clear my head, but it's not working. I'm so confused about what went wrong, and I don't know what to do. I feel like I'm in a hole with no way out, and it's getting smaller and smaller."

Draco sat stunned into silence for a moment, and in a moment that surprised him and Hermione both, he pulled her into a hug.

"I just can't understand why," Hermione cried quietly. "What did I do to deserve this?"

"You didn't do anything," Draco assured her. "It's all his fault. Here I thought I was going to get verbally lashed for hexing him earlier, and look at us now!"

Hermione gave a small choked giggle, and she straightened up out of the hug.

"Malfoy, why are you doing this? Why don't you torment me like you always do? You should be getting your normal sick high out of seeing me hurt and miserable. Are you sick?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Draco took a deep breath. This probably was the worst time, but it wasn't him that she was mad at. Perhaps he could get away with something like this if he worded it carefully. She was simply looking for some comfort, and he could give it to her. He would give her the world if she asked.

"Granger, do I really have to spell it out for you? A smart witch such as yourself ought to be able to figure out what I want," was the cryptic clue he chose to give her.

Hermione furrowed her brow in thought, and her eyes widened in shock as she came to the conclusion.

"You like me," she choked out.

Draco shook his head unhappily and took her hand.

"No, Hermione, I _love_ you. There's a difference," he said.

"But why?" was the question that came out of Hermione's lips. She couldn't wrap her head around why someone who had terrorized her for soon to be six years suddenly felt _love_ for her.

"I don't know why, exactly, but I know that as the years went on, you got prettier, and I found that little things you did enthralled me. The way you smiled, the way your eyes shone, the way you would curl your hair around a quill as you wrote…I couldn't take my mind off you. I've been obsessed with you for about a year, actually.

"I always knew that Weasley was a heartbreaker. Just you wait, in about a week he'll dump the leech and come crawling back to you on his knees. You would forgive him, because that's just the kind of innocent forgiveness you possess. However, you know better this time. He'll just do it again."

Draco sighed, and he wondered if any of this was getting through to her.

"What'd Potter have to say about it?"

"He actually attacked Ron and got into a fistfight with him. Called him a lying, cheating bastard and said if he ever talked to me again, Harry'd rip his intestines out and strangle him with them."

"Never thought Potter liked you so much."

"He felt really betrayed; he always thought of Ron and me as siblings. Now that his 'sister' was under attack, he felt obliged to stick up for me. I'd do the same thing for him in a heartbeat." She cringed.

"He told Ron to stay away from him, and he told Ron to stay away from me as well. Ron tried to apologize, but Harry shot him the scowl of death, and Ron backed out of the room fast."

"God, I'm sorry, Hermione. You deserve someone far better than a Weasley, especially one like that."

"I don't understand. I loved him," she said heartbrokenly.

"You did nothing wrong, Hermione," Draco said, exasperated. "It was his own damn lust that he gave in to, and it had nothing to do with you. It's his loss, anyway; he's giving up a chance to be with an incredible person for the rest of his life."

"You really like – er, _love_ – me that much, huh?" said Hermione thoughtfully.

Draco nodded eagerly, his eyes pleading that she would accept him.

"Well," she said, slamming her book shut and dropping it onto the table, "I suppose that's that. Thanks, Draco; I guess that's what I needed. Some comfort and someone to tell me that it wasn't my fault." Draco felt a happy shiver run down his spine as she said his first name nicely.

"Do you want to have dinner with me in Hogsmeade next weekend?" he asked.

"Sure," Hermione said, and blew him a kiss as she waltzed out of the library.

Draco stood from the chair he had been sitting in for an hour, and he moved to hide behind a shelf on dragon breeding, where he did a dance reminiscent to that of a Muggle touchdown dance in football.

Their dinner could only be the start of a fabulous relationship. Draco could picture quite clearly their wedding and children. He scurried out of the library to find Hermione and talk about small things.

He had completely forgotten about the book he needed for his assignment.

That was all right, he could just ask his – dare he think it – new girlfriend.

* * *

I didn't make Malfoy as much as a self-absorbed jerk as he usually is. I was probably having an off-day. Review, please?


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